


Rain

by amorremanet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cecaelia!Danny, Community: hc_bingo, Community: teenwolf_bingo, Ficlet, M/M, Tentacles, merfolk, merman!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:39:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Yeah, well, what makes you think I'm going to fix them for you?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Because I have it on good authority that you love grooming my tentacles for me."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> written for hc_bingo with the prompt, "tentacles," teenwolf_bingo with the prompt, "rain," and 100 things ([random prompts](http://amor-remanet.livejournal.com/560116.html)) with the prompt, "storm."

"I mean, seriously, dude. This is one of the worst tangles I've ever seen with you—do I even want to know what the Hell you were doing this time?"

"I got into a tussle with that sea-hag—you know, Greenberg? It wasn't anything serious—but I can't get them fixed up on my own."

"Yeah, well, what makes you think I'm going to fix them for you?"

"Because I have it on good authority that you love grooming my tentacles for me." Danny huffs (completely failing not to smirk), reclines into one of the tide-pool's bigger rocks and flicks one of his free tentacles against Jackson's cheek. He leaves behind a trail of slime, but it doesn't hang around Jackson's skin for long. Rain wipes his cheek clean and he snickers about it, combing his fingers down Danny's tentacles, through the place where they're all snagged up.

Rainstorms are the only time they can come this close to land. Any other time, their skin and Jackson's scales would dry out, breathing would get difficult and eventually impossible, humans from the nearby town would find their corpses and realize that there are people living under the sea. But in the grey sheets of rain, with their hair sticking to the sides of their heads and the salt and brine washing down the backs of their necks, Danny and Jackson can come up out of the depths. They can slink up to the surface and feel the wind whispering against their faces.

Or wailing against their faces, whining through the trees, the way it's doing now—but they can't win everything, Danny supposes.

It's hard enough with him being a cecaelia and Jackson being a merman. Almost no one else underneath the water understands it—only Lydia does, really, and it's usually in that too-ordered, scientific way that she understands things—they can't mate, after all, and Danny's always telling people that Jackson isn't really his type. Too many scales, too much tail-lashing posturing, and not nearly enough flexibility, physical or otherwise, for Danny to properly enjoy himself. _I'm everyone's type_ , Jackson always says to this—not that it makes Danny stop, not that it makes him _want_ to stop.

Why should he stop? Jackson wrinkles his entire face in the most perplexed, frustrated way when Danny insists that he isn't his type—he's making the same face right now, curling his tail up almost to his chest, all from Danny teasing another tentacle over his nose, flicking it at the side of his head. It's adorable—not that Jackson would ever admit to doing anything adorable. Not that he would ever want anyone thinking that he had it in him to blink up at Danny as though he can't understand this behavior and doesn't care. Not that he would ever let people think that he loves Danny.

"You're the worst sometimes, you know that?" he says, when Danny pulls his tentacle back, takes to letting it linger in the ebb and flow of the tide-pool instead. "I'm trying to do you a damn favor—the _least_ you could do is keep your _appendages_ to yourself for a little while."

By way of making his point, he scrapes one of his little claws over one of Danny's tentacle, right along where it curls into the tangle—Danny gasps, shudders at the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach at this touch, at the way Jackson digs his fingertips into the whole clump, into so many tentacles at once—he slouches against the rock and when he raises his head, Jackson's grinning up at him, flashing his rows of teeth and flicking his tail in victory.

"So, if I'm the worst, then what does that make you?" Danny says and leans his head back, turns his face toward the rain more fully. "Because with the way that you behave sometimes, I'd say that we rather deserve each other."


End file.
